End of Semester

Well, spring semester is now over and my ESL class had a lot of fun. Most of the students wanted an English name, so we spent some time on this at first. We had people from at least 7 countries and over the course of the semester we all learned a lot from each other.

Below are a few pictures of some of us.

Pictures 1 & 2:

Back row, L to R: Don, Karina, Hande in 1st picture, George in 2nd picture, Takeshi, Jonathan.

Front row, L to R: Saiko, me, Nancy, Andrew

Picture 3:

Back row, L to R: Greg, Andrew, Takeshi, Don

Front row, L to R: Nancy, me, Hande, Saiko

White Pagoda in Inner Mongolia

WHISPERS AND ECHOES OF GENGHIS KHAN at the WHITE PAGODA (Bai Ta)

 

This isolated pagoda, which stands alone, is an unexpected glimpse of Mongolian history. It lies just beyond a small rural village, Taipingzhuang, but used to be in the center of an ancient town, Fengzhou, which no longer exists. In antiquity, the town was the focus of a large thriving horse market.

Rumor has it that Genghis Khan came here to look for steeds, and perhaps bought some of his famous horses here. The Mongolian Grasslands are not far away and we can imagine Genghis Khan and his army of wild riders thundering away from here.

The pagoda, about 17km east of Hohhot, beyond the modern airport, is quite difficult to reach so we went on a half-day tour in a mini-van, with a driver familiar to the area.

Just past the airport the road changes from wide tar highway to a dusty track, then a narrow strip of tar hardly wide enough for two vehicles, but with a dangerous mix of vehicles on it and plenty of reckless driving. It bumps through a village, which has a very poor, rural feel to it: small, broken-down houses; small shops set up just beyond the sand at the edge of the tar; lots of broken, rusted vehicles; many more bicycles; dirty drains; stagnant pools of water covered with algae; an amazing amount of litter next to the road.

So much for unspoilt wilderness.

The pagoda is in a garden setting in a walled complex just past the village. It was originally known as The Ten Thousand Avatamska Sutras Temple because it had many inscriptions about Buddha inside on the walls, written in the languages of many minority ethnic groups, including Old Mongolian, Sanscrit, Khitan, Nuchen, Turki, and old Syriac.

The attractive wood and brick construction, a 7-storey octagonal pagoda, which towers more than 55m over the nearby maize, wheat and potatoes fields, is very old (it was started in the 10^th century in the Liao Dynasty) and has been restored in recent years. The whitewash outside gives it the white color and its nickname. Interesting carvings of coiling dragons, birds and flowers cover the outside.

We climbed steep wooden steps outside to a door on the third level. Inside was pitch dark, as there are no windows, so without a torch you can’t even shuffle around the one circular passage. One Japanese girl in our party had a torch, so we did shuffle around but couldn’t actually see anything, although there are supposedly Buddhist statues lining the walls. The Japanese girl, an Australian lady (Ann), and the guide went up the dark stairs to the top of the pagoda. Ann said there was a small shrine up top, and a bit of a view out. But those three didn’t rave about the view like the guidebook does!

We looked in the small Exhibition Hall in a building complex next door (locked as very few tourists come here, so we had to call the groundskeeper), which has information on the restoration work, the design of the pagoda, plus some of the original sculptures (notably 2 dragons) and copies of some of the Buddhist writings that were on the walls. None of the exhibits were in English, so it was a bit hard to understand.

We wandered through an interesting pergola made by squash vines, festooned with many different types of squash and gourds and past the extensive vegetable gardens surrounding the pagoda. The guide told us the squashes on the pergola are just for decoration and not for selling at market (like the vegetables are—other squash, pumpkins, leafy greens). The smell of colorful summer flowers and the sight of gourds dangling in the arbors are nearly as good a reason to visit this out-of-the-way pagoda as the lure of the Mongol legends.

 

Open daily 8-6pm. Yuan 5, and an extra Yuan 5 to climb the tower.

Our half-day tour was combined with the inevitable visit to a cashmere shop back in Hohhot city. Cashmere production is part of the economy here. It’s lovely but very expensive so I didn’t succumb to its lure, but some members of the party did!

 

 

 

 

Wonderful Weaving

KAQCHIKEL MAYA WEAVING DEMONSTRATION

In our city of Urbana-Champaign we are fortunate to have a number of excellent museums, made possible by the support of the University of Illinois. One is the Spurlock Museum, which focuses on world history and cultures. Besides being a fascinating museum in its own right, it also hosts various special exhibits and programs.

One recent program was a demonstration of Mayan weaving techniques and patterns, brought to the US by Wuqu’Kawoq. This not-for-profit organization, based in Guatemala, aims to strengthen Mayan language, medicine and engineering. Physicians and medical staff offer various medical services and medication, while engineering groups are designing water and sanitary improvements.

The Spurlock Museum and the Center for Latin American Studies at the University sponsored a series of events in March and April to raise interest and awareness about Mayan language, culture and health. The weaving demo was one of these events, featuring Magda Silvia Sotz Mux, of Chiq’a’l (San Juan Comalapa), Guatemala.

This Mayan lady was demonstrating how to use the back strap loom, in which tension is supplied by the weaver’s own body. She learnt by watching her mother and has been weaving since age 12. She is currently working on a po’t, the traditional women’s blouse worn daily. She typically weaves 3-4 days a week, which allows her to complete about 2 po’t per year (only 2—hard to imagine how such people can make a living then). Watching her, we could see that it’s a slow and laborious process, especially when she does the more complicated brocaded patterns.

Magda speaks  Kaqchikel, a Mayan language. Her interpreter was Dr Peter Rohloff, director of the Wuqu’Kawoq organization.

These traditional weavings are absolutely gorgeous—bright and beautiful—a lovely introduction to part of the Mayan culture.

Thanks to Rod, my husband, for these pictures.

 

March Morpho Mania

MARCH MADNESS IN THE BUTTERFLY HOUSE

Get up close and personal with nature at the Sophia M. Sachs Butterfly House in St Louis, Missouri.

The Butterfly House is a magical place. Pretend you’re in a foreign land, far away, wandering in a tropical forest where hundreds of colorful butterflies fly free. Feel the hot, humid air in the huge, glass-domed structure making droplets on your face. Gaze at these gorgeous creatures flitting restlessly from one bright flower to the next, searching for nectar. Wonder at the soft touch of gossamer wings as a butterfly brushes against your face.

Whether you’re a celebrity or a world-weary civilian, you can find an oasis in the Butterfly House…you feel a million miles away from the noise and nuisance of civilization.

This March (200 The Butterfly House held the 1^st Annual March Morpho Madness, by releasing hundreds of new Morpho butterflies each Saturday in March at 1pm. Many people wanted to be present, so we were lucky that our daughter knew about this event and we could go early to be sure to get entrance tickets.

What a wonderful experience. So many gorgeous butterflies (between 60-80 species at any one time)—a medley of bright colors against green succulent leaves. But, on that Saturday in March, most noticeable are the blue Morphos—thousands of iridescent blue wings fluttering, the creatures flitting through the whole area enclosed by the glass dome, sometimes grazing past our heads, or arms, sometimes landing on a person. It’s awesome and magical to have these beautiful, delicate creatures so close.

Don’t harm the delicate flyers.

Be careful where and how you walk as they may also land on the path, so don’t turn or lunge unexpectedly. Double doors at the entrance and exit to the enclosed area also try to prevent butterflies escaping out into the rest of the building—they are called “hitch-hikers”.

At 1pm, three of the staff wheel in a large net-mesh cage, which they unzip and out pour about 300 more Morphos, blue wings shining, overwhelming our senses, and fluttering like bright jewels. Some fly straight up, others into the bushes, others stop to rest to get strength in their wings. The Morphos seem to float majestically, rather than fly, dipping and soaring. We feel the urge to whisper because their movement makes no sound. Stop and listen—can you hear the flutter?

We feel very honored to witness this incredible sight, which would never be possible in the wild. The excited chattering and comments in the dome show just how beloved these gorgeous creatures are. We marvel at the delicate beauty, but also at the inner strength of these tiny creatures. Butterflies are a symbol of metamorphosis and of hope: They start out as fat and ugly and become something beautiful and ephemeral, almost not of this earth. People like to believe that we can change and make ourselves better—have our own metamorphosis.

We try to take photos, but the butterflies are flitting so fast that it’s tough to focus unless they come to rest.

There are good display boards about all the butterflies and the staff (in blue shirts) answers questions very well.

Some Fun Facts:

–The Blue Morpho Butterfly (Morpho menelaus) is an iridescent blue butterfly that lives in rainforests of South and Central America.

–The wings of the Blue Morphos are not actually blue: the scales on the wings reflect light in a special way.

–The underside of the wings is mottled brown with large black “eye” markings. This is so they can close their wings and be camouflaged while eating.

–Morphos like to sip rotting fruit, tree sap, fungi, and wet mud, drinking the juices with their straw-like proboscis.

–The Blue Morpho is among the largest butterflies in the world, with wings spanning from 5 to 8 inches. 

–The Morpho caterpillar has a very “bad hair-do”, with lots of spikes on the back of its head, as camouflage.

–Many butterflies taste with their feet.

–They bask in the sun, as they’re cold-blooded. When warm they can fly to search for food.

–The special release didn’t have to be in March, as butterflies mate all year. But, the staff thought this was a great way to end winter, and we have to agree!

The Butterfly House is in Faust Park, along 64/40 West. Exit at Clarkson/Olive, and drive along Olive about a mile on the left.

Enjoy the series of pictures below. Click on the thumbnails for a bigger view.

The butterfly on the bag is a Blue Morpho with closed wings. The other butterflies are a Lapwing, a Great Egg Fly, and a Paper Kite respectively.

 

 

 

Five Years in Iraq: a local Vigil for all the casualties and all those serving

March 19, 2008. All around the USA:

Communities around the USA held vigils, parades, and demonstrations to honor those who have been involved in the Iraq War in any way, and to call for an end to this war that is having such a devastating effect on the country in so many ways.The weather was cold and windy, but our local community’s late afternoon vigil still drew around 60 people in front of the Veterans’ War Memorial outside the County Courthouse.
  

Earth Hour, 2008

What is this Earth Hour?

WWF’s EARTH HOUR takes place 8-9pm, Saturday March 29, 2008, and the momentum is building.

(BTW, it all sounds very sensible to me, so I think we’ll try this—an evening get-together with friends would be pleasant, with a good bottle of wine, of course!)

According to Richard Moss, Managing Director and Vice President, Climate Change of WWF, the Earth Hour idea has captured the hearts and minds of people all over the world. It’s a global movement to shut off the lights for one hour to make a statement about climate change. More and more individuals, businesses, and even cities (for example, Chicago, Atlanta, San Francisco, Toronto, Melbourne, Brisbane, Copenhagen) are planning to participate and deliver a powerful message to the citizens and leaders of the world about the need for action on climate change.

Earth Hour is an opportunity to take action, to influence others and start a wave of change that alters the course of climate change. Shutting off non-essential lights for WWF’s Earth Hour on March 29 will give people some time to think about how they can be smarter about the Earth’s resources.

But turning off lights is just the beginning. What can one person do in the face of a global challenge? Richard Moss offers some easy tips to help you make a big impact:

You don’t have to sit alone in the dark. Talking about protecting the planet for future generations can make for a very pleasant evening. Couple your conversation with some organic chocolate (dark, of course!) and make Earth Hour a night to remember. Get outside and gaze at the night sky.

Check in with a local astronomy club about star gazing events. The night sky provides its own light show–and here’s your chance to take a break and soak up the view.

Earth Hour is on a Saturday night. If the weather’s good, try a picnic under the stars. Ask your favorite restaurant or bar to dim their lights and participate in Earth Hour.

Plan a get-dark party for Earth Hour. The younger crowd can host a slumber party complete with scary stories, hold an acoustical jam session or bring friends together to do some dancing in the dark. Don’t worry about decorations–it will be dark!

You can still text in the dark. Make a list of all the ways you are going to reduce your energy consumption: unplug unused appliances; change to compact fluorescent bulbs; properly inflate tires; adjust your thermostat. Text your list to others and challenge them to make their own lists. Check other lists for ideas you may have forgotten.

For more information, go to http://www.earthhour.org

New Pics

Take a look on the China/Beijing page for some new pics.

Wild Weather…all year

DELAY BY STORMS ( one June)

A time to learn patience.

No matter the season, weather can always be an issue in travel, and it seems to be especially so out of the Mid-West in the USA, and especially out of Chicago.

We’ve been delayed by bad weather before, but these storms were WILD! 

Chicago was having horrendous thunder and lightning storms, and initially our flight from Champaign was delayed landing as O’Hare had shut down, so we were in holding pattern for a while, and then the pilot announced that maybe we had to return to Champaign, as fuel was running low.  But we made it in, and the weather was indeed wild—lashing rain, huge black and purple thunder clouds, ear-shattering thunder, streaks of jagged lightning. 

On the ground we couldn’t get to our gate at first as the ground crew don’t work when it’s like this.  And, of course, some of the passengers were complaining, wondering why!  Bet they wouldn’t like to be out in this. 

More fierce rain while we waited in the airport for our flight to Glasgow, and the whole airport shut down again—imagine the ripple effect of this?  The end result was that the whole traffic pattern was badly snarled and so there were huge queues of planes waiting to take off. 

We eventually got on our Glasgow flight but then sat on the runway for 2 hours in a queue of 100, according to the pilot.  Often he shut down the engines to conserve fuel, and some planes had to leave the queue as their fuel got low, or the pilot’s work hours were getting over the limit.  Quite a circus.  American Airlines did well—the crew were calm, and brought round extra peanuts and juice, as by then it was way past dinner.  Very few people were muttering and complaining, as it was terribly obvious that it was out of the pilot’s control.

A night and a flight to practise being philosophical, I think

Haggis—a Scottish Icon

(A friend was asking me the other day about our earlier trip to Scotland, and was especially interested in Haggis. It reminded me of this incident, so I decided to post it here—the feelings are relevant for anyone trying this dish for the first time, I think!!)  

 “Think of this as your first kiss”, our Scottish host smiles impishly.“More like first dentist visit”, I think with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

What are we going to experience?

Well, it’s haggis.  How can we visit Scotland and not try haggis, which has become an icon, part of the national food?

We’re at the Britannia Hotel in Aberdeen for a Scottish Evening, arranged by the Rowett Research Institute where my husband, Rod, is attending a conference.  It’s a formal room, with round tables elegantly set with white linen and sparkling crystal, grouped around a small open dance floor, which right now has a table and a microphone, held by the chairman.

We ask our waitresses if they like haggis and their “not really” doesn’t reassure us.

There’s a rustle of voices and we all swivel our heads to watch a kilted piper enter the room.  The pipe music begins the ceremony, the “bringing in of the haggis”.  This is the signal for all the guests to stand. The procession is done with great ceremony.  The piper slowly paces in, followed by the chef holding a large haggis on a platter above his head.  It looks like an enormous fat sausage, gently steaming. Two waiters holding a bottle of whisky and glasses follow him.  They all walk sedately around the room and come to a halt by the chairman.  The piper stands to the chairman’s right with the chef opposite.  The waiters place the whisky bottle and glasses in front of the chairman, then stand on his left.

The chairman fills a glass and raises it.

“At this conference, the microbiologists and the nutritionists often don’t understand each other’s language.  Well, now I’ll even the score and we’ll read something that none of you will understand”.

He calls on a colleague, who comes forward and reads the “Address to the Haggis”, a poem by Robbie Burns.

There are eight verses, much of it in Gaelic, a beautiful lilting language, but many words we cannot understand.  When he gets to the third verse and says ,”His knife see rustic labor dight/An’cut you up wi’ ready sleight..” that’s the signal for the chef to stab the haggis with his long knife.

At the end of the poem, the piper pipes the chef and waiters out of the room and then returns to the chairman, who pours a dram of whisky into a silver quaitch.  The piper lifts the two-handled shallow drinking bowl, drinks the whisky and turns round to us.  He turns the quaitch upside down, to show it’s empty, and kisses it.

Waiters and waitresses now enter, and begin serving our meal.  The menu reads:

Rabbies Favourite (Haggis, Neeps and Tatties)/ Raspberry Cranachan/Coffee served with cream, and of course, whisky.

(Supposedly Robbie Burns really liked all these)

On each plate are two rounds of haggis, topped with mashed yellow turnips (neeps) and mashed potato (tatties).  We gingerly slice off a small piece and taste it.  Well…what was all the fuss about?  The haggis contains a lot of oatmeal to bind it all together, so it’s rather solid and heavy.  The taste is bland and indefinite, except for being chilli hot (is that to mask the real taste, we wonder?).  We try washing it down with whisky, but that doesn’t seem to be the right thing to do with whisky somehow.

For many years the haggis was regarded as an uncivilized dish, for poor uncivilized people, probably because of what it is—the stomach bag of a sheep, stuffed with minced organ meat, oatmeal, and onions—a way for those people to use up every part of an animal.  But, now that it has become an accepted, almost gourmet dish, there is even a vegetarian version.

Anyway, we did it!  We tried the haggis and our final verdict is…”Much ado about nothing”.

 For the pics below: the dessert was much nicer than the haggis; & tasting the whisky)

  

Carved Elephant

My friend Chengli recently sent us some pictures from our trip to Kunming, Yunnan, China, in September 2007. Elephants are the symbol of Yunnan Province and you can find them in many forms.